Malcolm: Hey, Clara. Is it okay if we chat?
She bit her lip. Holden and Jesse had told her about the interview with Deb. They’d asked her not to speak to Malcolm or anyone else from the running group until they got to the bottom of this.
Clara: I’m sorry, I can’t see anyone from the running club while my brother’s actively investigating the hospital. I hope you understand.
She hit send and winced. She hated writing that.
Nothing about Malcolm being a suspect felt right. She didn’t believe he’d intentionally make his patients sick. Heck, she didn’t believe he could murder Scarlett. Sure, they weren’t super close, but her gut told her she was right on this one.
“Hey.”
Her eyes flashed open to see Jesse in front of her. “Hey, big brother.”
He studied her face. Something he did often. “Everything okay?”
“Of course. But I’ll be better when you tell me what Scarlett’s cause of death was.” Holden had already told her what Jesse had found out about Scarlett’s job. It had just been one shock after the next lately.
“Respiratory depression.”
Clara gasped. Like others at the hospital. “What triggered it?”
“We’re still waiting on the tox report to find out.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking…that your broken back door in combination with her investigating an open case is suspicious. And people from the hospital have better access to drugs than the general public.”
A knot formed in her belly.
“You’re staying away from them, right?” Jesse stepped closer. “You’re not in contact with anyone from the hospital?”
She glanced at her phone, then back up. “I—”
“Darling, it’s time for gifts.”
Clara gave her mother a look. “Gifts? I said I didn’t need anything.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “It’s your thirtieth birthday.”
The next hour and a half was a blur of people and presents and cake. The cake was in the form of a big acupuncture needle and was the best she’d ever tasted.
She was just taking her empty plate to the trash can when a car passed The Tea House. She frowned at the sight of Malcolm behind the wheel and he frowned back. Suddenly, he was pulling over and climbing out.
Crap. If he came in here, her brothers and Holden would lose their minds in front of everyone.
Before she could think better of it, she rushed outside. “What are you doing here?”
Malcolm stopped in front of her. “I need to talk to you.” He shot a glance at The Tea House, then back to her. “It’s your birthday?”
“Yeah. Thirty.”
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. But you need to go.”
Frustration flickered in his eyes. “I need to know if your brother’s said anything about Scarlett’s death.”
He was trying to get information from her? “Why?”
